


Trois Petits Points

by Storms_by_Starlight



Category: Notice Me Senpai! (Video Game)
Genre: 3 things + 1, M/M, Pre-Slash, bc i definitely ship it, but for my intents and purposes it's pre-slash, can be seen as just friendship tbh, hopefully kind of sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 11:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storms_by_Starlight/pseuds/Storms_by_Starlight
Summary: Three moments in the year when Kyouya-sensei gets fussed over...and one where he's fussing over someone else instead.





	1. Un

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okokok giving the senseis another go! I'm not quite happy with some of the chapters, but I don't have a lot of time to write and perfect at the moment, and I desperately wanted to get this out before I lost the motivation completely. hopefully I haven't butchered anyone too badly in my rush!!  
> So here we go: 3 times Haruka looked after Kyouya, and one time Kyouya returned the favour. 
> 
> N.B. This was not beta'd so any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. I don't own any of the characters you can recognize!

It’s a well-kept secret among the Ikemen Academy staff that Kyouya has something of a hidden sweet-tooth. A lot of them think it’s a joke, at first-- serious, no-nonsense Kyouya, who drinks coffee as bitter as his soul, has a secret fondness for sugar? Too out-of-character, they laugh. (Kyouya wonders what they’d say if he told them he used to smoke, instead.) But it’s true. Kyouya really does like sweets, when he can get his hands on them. It’s just a habit that’s so rarely indulged, except for some days—the kind of days when Kyouya desperately needs something to keep him grounded, to keep him from flying apart at the seams with stress and worry and anger.

Today was turning out to be one of those days. 

He’d already had to send Wakatoshi to the infirmary before homeroom, when he’d appeared at the classroom door with a split lip and grazed knuckles, a grateful but shaken Izumi in tow. When he’d come back, 3-C had devolved into utter chaos—everyone insisted on asking what had happened. Nobody listened to a word Kyouya said, and even when he’d snapped and shouted, they all whispered and fidgeted and Kyouya had felt a headache blooming long before nine o’clock ever came. 

He’d been on rotation for classes all day, leaving him no time to duck into the infirmary to grab any painkillers. His lunch hour had been spent hunting down Viktor after the principal had called Hideki and himself into his office to tell them Viktor would be taking yet _another_ trip to Europe in less than a _week_ , leaving them all scrambling to adjust teaching rotations and Hideki’s schedule and organize extra substitute teachers. 

So now, Kyouya is stuck at his desk, an hour and a half after school has finished for the day, rewriting lesson plans and notes for substitutes, and _craving_ something sweet to take the edge off the stress that feels like a razor-sharp blade sitting at his throat. He’s ready to scream himself hoarse if anybody so much as _looks_ at him the wrong way right now, and doesn’t envy any poor person who crosses his path this afternoon. 

Then there’s a knock at the staff-room door. 

“Kyouya?” 

The snarled _”What”_ dies in his throat when he looks up and finds Haruka hovering over his desk. The doctor is eyeing him critically, brow drawn into the slightest frown. 

Kyouya’s hardly expecting the sudden softness when the doctor asks, “Are you okay?” Haruka is watching him like he’s waiting for Kyouya to flinch in pain from an injury somewhere. Kyouya takes a deep breath, and lets it out again as quietly and slowly as he can. 

“…Yes, sorry. I’m fine. What is it?” Haruka passes him a small packet of papers.

“That’s the incident report I had to file this morning for Wakatoshi—no serious injuries, thankfully, but he’d told me some other third years had been picking on Izumi. I doubt it was the first time, but this has been the only time to result in physical violence so far. Both of their names are listed in the report. I thought I’d bring it to you to see what you wanted to do, as both Wakatoshi and Izumi’s homeroom teacher.” 

Kyouya quickly scans the report, and stands to make his way into the hall, trying to tamp down the quiet fury that’s seething under his skin. “Thank-you, Haruka. I’ll take this to the principal right now. I’ll have to have a talk with Wakatoshi and Izumi tomorrow about reporting any further incidences of bullying.” He’s out of the room before Haruka has any chance to reply.

***

When Kyouya returns to his desk, he’s bone-tired but feeling a little more secure for the safety of his students, at least. The principal had agreed to host a serious discussion about the instances of any bullying going on, and they’ll send for both the accused parties and Wakatoshi and Izumi tomorrow to sort out the issue. Kyouya will have to speak to his students privately to urge less violent and more sensible reactions and options for any future problems—he doesn’t look forward to the fuss Wakatoshi is going to make about it, or Izumi’s insistence that it’s not necessary, but he’s hoping he can at least install in them both a little more confidence that the situation can be handled differently.

He slumps into his chair, and notices there's something new now sitting on his desk.

Atop the paperwork and schedules now neatly arranged over his workspace, there's a large bar of chocolate--dark, Kyouya's favourite-- and a small bag of green candies. He can't help the huffed laughter when he picks one up and sees that it's shaped like a dinosaur. 

Along with the sweets, there's a little pink post-it note, scrawled with neat, looping handwriting;

_Did you know 'stressed' is just 'desserts' spelled backwards? :)_  
_You looked like you could use a little treat. Try not to stress too much, okay? It's bad for your health!  
-H_


	2. Deux

The way Viktor pales and hunches into his seat when he spots Kyouya at the infirmary office door is pretty gratifying, he thinks. Maybe not quite as nice as the bright smile Haruka gives him, but it's pretty close.

“Kyou-chan! What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?” 

“You can hand over the truant _leech_ who’s been giving a certain teaching assistant of ours rather a lot of trouble today,” Kyouya says dryly, levelling a stare as hard and cold as ice Viktor’s way. It’s satisfying and a little bit scary how fast Haruka’s face clouds over as he turns to look at Viktor, who shrinks under the disappointed gaze. 

“Viktor! You told me you’d already spoken to Hideki today!” 

“Oh. Did I?” Viktor says blithely, avoiding looking at either of them by taking a sip from the cup in his hands. “I was sure I had. I must have forgotten…” He looks up like he’s going to say more, but just wilts under the weight of both their stares. “Geez, fine, okay!” He heaves himself from the small sofa with a groan. “I’ll go find Hideki right now, and look over whatever horrendously boring paperwork he has for me.” He pouts in Haruka’s direction for sympathy. Haruka’s severely unimpressed face warms Kyouya’s heart. 

“Oh, and Viktor?” Kyouya adds lightly, as the history teacher passes him to leave. Viktor stops and shoots him with a look that is equal parts hope and terror. 

Kyouya reaches out and grabs Viktor’s tie in one hand, yanking him close so Viktor is forced to look him in the eye. “If I check in with Hideki this afternoon and find out you haven’t completed _all_ of your required paperwork,” he continues with equal airiness, “I will personally make your life a living hell until it’s done.” 

The room is so silent for a moment, he doesn't think anyone so much as breathes. 

“...Wow, so scary, Kyouya!” Viktor laughs as he lets him go, but it’s reedy and nervous. Kyouya can see his hands shaking as he straightens his tie. “Such a charmer. No wonder you’ve got a reputation, with a personality like that.” All the same, Viktor scurries from the room as fast as he can manage, and Kyouya feels vaguely vindicated. He spares a moment to wish poor Hideki luck.

“That really was quite a scary face there, Kyou-chan,” Haruka teases. 

“He’s such a pain,” Kyouya complains, dragging a hand wearily through his hair. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just get it over with first thing instead of causing trouble for everyone else.”

"I would have thought you'd be used to it by now. Was he like this in high-school, too?" 

Kyouya snorts. "He was _worse_."

He remembers having to physically drag Viktor around to get him to do _anything_ in high-school, even if i'd been Viktor's idea in the first place. 

The relative peace and quiet left in the wake of Viktor's hasty exit shatters when something growls. Haruka slaps a hand against his mouth to stifle a laugh. Kyouya belatedly realizes it might have been his stomach.

"Have you had lunch today, Kyou-chan?"

"...No." He was too busy hunting down the red-haired menace he calls his friend. Kyouya's going to make him pay for lunch next time they go. Serves him right. 

Haruka checks his watch. 

"Well, it's about afternoon-tea time anyway. Do you have an hour to spare? It's a little early, but I think the third-year cafe might just be open, if we're lucky."

Haruka starts to gather up his bag.

"Ah--No, it's okay--I don't want to be any trouble--" 

"Come on. My treat," Haruka insists, gliding past Kyouya and out into the hallway in a quiet whirlwind of kindness and composure. Kyouya is helpless to do anything but follow him through the school and out to the small cafe near the garden. 

The bell on the door twinkles as they enter, and the girl at the counter looks up. 

"Ah, welcome back Haruka-sensei! And Kyouya-sensei! What a surprise to see you both." Haruka waves at her, giving her a cheerful smile. Kyouya just nods-- he's only been to the cafe once or twice before. "What can I get you both today?" 

"Just the usual, if you'd please, kouhai-chan. There's plenty enough to share," Haruka assures him. "And you look like you could use something sweet."

"...Thank you," Kyouya says when he finally gathers his wits again. "You really didn't have to do this." 

"Nonsense," Haruka says firmly, waving away the protest. "I wanted to. Besides,"--he smiles again at the girl when she brings over a pot of tea, and then turns it on Kyouya as he pours them both a cup; it's so determinedly content that Kyouya has to look away-- "It's not good for your health to be hungry and stressed all the time. So whenever you feel like that, come see me and we'll have afternoon tea together. We might get you to relax a little yet," he teases. 

Kyouya hides the curl of his smile behind the lip of the cup. He supposes he could get used to this.


	3. Trois

Kyouya wakes blearily, warm and comfortable, and it’s a slow few seconds as he works through the haze to figure out what’s going on. His headache seems to have disappeared, and he savors the feeling, pleasantly groggy and unhindered by any aches or pains or even incessant bone-deep fatigue. It's such an unusual feeling for Kyouya, it takes a moment to just sort through it all. He decides at length that it's a welcome sort of unusual though, and resolves to try and end up in whatever this situation is more often. 

It would probably be easier if he actually knew what _this_ was. 

_Infirmary office_ , he realizes. _Haruka. Headache medicine._ He rubs an eye to try and erase the blur. They're struggling to adjust. The office is dim and quiet. Did he fall asleep? 

____

He hadn’t had any afternoon classes, thankfully, but the morning had left him sullen and cranky with a sharp headache settled behind his temples. Haruka had invited Kyouya to a cup of tea after offering him some painkillers—the mug is still on the low, tiny coffee table, half-full and now cold—and Kyouya had sunk gratefully into the small, plush sofa. 

They’d had the usual small-talk, about any commotion from the students, or about some of the other teachers, or occasionally about the third-year café and everything that seemed to happen there. Haruka had been called out into the infirmary proper for a minute, to attend to someone— ‘a minor injury, nothing serious,’ he’d heard. Kyouya had only leaned back, letting his head rest for just a moment; Haruka’s voice had been a smooth murmur in the background, working wonders to soothe any fretful teenager. It worked on fretful teachers, too, apparently; Kyouya had only closed his eyes for just a second, hoping that maybe the headache would ebb if he could shut out all the light… 

__

____He feels a low stab of embarrassment and struggles stiffly upright from his slouch in the corner of the sofa, and hopes Viktor never, ever finds out. It’d be nothing but jokes and taunts about Kyouya’s age from then on in, and Kyouya would be forced to do something drastic; something with garlic, maybe—_ _ _ _

__

____Something falls across his front, and Kyouya pauses to divest himself of whatever it is before he does something stupid, like get tangled in it before he even stands up. It’s a blanket. It’s white, and soft and warm with body heat, and Kyouya definitely did not have it on his person a few hours ago. He has a pretty good idea where it came from, though._ _ _ _

__

“Oh, are you awake Kyou-chan?” His head snaps around to the doorway to the infirmary, where Haruka has just appeared. _Speak of the devil._. He gives Kyouya a soft smile. “I was just coming to get you. It’s about time to head home. Do you need a lift? It’s dangerous to drive if you’re still tired.” 

__

____Kyouya shakes his head—he feels fine to drive. Better than fine. He opens his mouth, to say—something, like ‘I’m okay to drive,’ ‘I’m sorry I fell asleep in your office,’ or ‘Please don’t ever tell Viktor about this.’ What comes out is:  
“...Thanks.” He lifts the blanket in his hand slightly to show what he means, and immediately feels stupid for it. He stands and folds it so he doesn’t have to look at Haruka while his face is probably bright red. When he turns around, Haruka has his own bags shouldered and his coat in one hand—he holds out Kyouya’s jacket and bag in the other. _ _ _ _

__

____“Come on,” he says, waiting as Kyouya shrugs the jacket on and slings the bag over his shoulder, “it’ll be dark soon.”_ _ _ _

__

____The walk to the teacher’s parking lot is quiet and cool. They wave to each other as Haruka ducks into his car, and Kyouya watches until he’s out of the parking lot and out of sight before following suit._ _ _ _

__


	4. Et Un Plus

“Kouhai-chan!”

Kyouya pauses at the whiteboard, half-way through an equation. _What?_

He can’t help startling when he faces the class, and practically every boy’s eyes are glued on the classroom door. Boys in the back row are craning their necks to try and see. Boys in the front row are trying to wave from under their desks. 

Kyouya turns to the door. _Ah._

The underclassmen girl from the café is standing in the doorway, looking anxiously between the class of boys and Kyouya. She looks a little less nervous once he spots her, but not by much. 

“Ah, Kyouya-sensei, I need to have a word with you—it’s about Haruka-sensei,” she says softly. That gets his attention. 

He gives the class stern instructions to behave, and copy the formula on the board, and that they should follow the exercises in the textbook pages specified. He doubts many of them are even listening, too distracted by the girl now following him from the classroom, but a teacher can hope. 

He doesn’t expect for her to keep walking, looking back for a second to check if he’s following, shifting nervously as she stops. “This way, please, sensei.” He frowns, but follows.

“What’s going on?” 

“Haruka-sensei collapsed,” she explains, and an ice-cold bolt of worry goes right through Kyouya’s core.

“ _What?_ ” 

“He’s okay, mostly,” she hurries on. “He said he wasn’t feeling well when he came to visit the café earlier, and he said he’d go home once he’d organized the infirmary, but I went to help him while on my break, and—he’d fainted. He had a fever, and I managed to get him to take some medicine, but he asked me to get you, he can’t drive himself home.” She leads the way into the infirmary, where Haruka looks like he’s dozing on one of the beds. He opens his eyes as they enter, and despite looking slightly glassy-eyed and very flushed, manages a small smile for them both. 

“Ah, thank you very much Kouhai-chan. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble today.” The girl shakes her head. 

“No, no, sensei, it’s not your fault.” 

“It absolutely is your fault,” Kyouya objects, placing a hand on Haruka’s forehead. He’s still feverish and warm. “You should have gone home immediately! It’s no use staying if you’re just working yourself hard enough to collapse! You know that better than anyone!” 

To his surprise, both the girl and Haruka start laughing. 

“What did I tell you, Kouhai-chan?” Haruka whispers conspiratorially. “Isn’t he just so predictable?” 

Kyouya can’t say he understands what’s happening, but it leeches some of the tension from the worried girl’s shoulders, and that’s enough to start to steady the panicked pounding of his heart. If Haruka’s well enough to be making jokes, he’s well enough for Kyouya to get him home safely. She looks carefully between them both. 

“Will you be alright if I leave now? Do you need help getting him to your car?” she asks Kyouya. He shakes his head. 

“No, that’s alright. I think I can get him home without a problem.” She looks to Haruka. He smiles encouragingly back.

“It’ll be okay, Kouhai-chan. I’m in good hands with Kyouya. Thank you for looking after me so well.”

The girl hesitates for a moment, as if torn between staying to help or the chance to leave—before she leans down lightning-fast to give Haruka a quick hug, whispering a quiet wish of “Get well soon, sensei.” Kyouya doesn’t even have the time to be surprised, or say anything about the lack of decorum of it all, before she straightens up and gives him the same treatment. 

“Please get him home safely,” she whispers, then she’s hurrying from the room without looking back. 

“I wonder if she has a crush on you,” Haruka ponders out loud. Kyouya can hear the amusement laced in it, and can’t help his slight blush.

“Don’t be silly,” he mutters, coming around to get one of Haruka’s arms around his shoulders. “It’d be highly inappropriate, besides. Can you walk alright?” 

Haruka gives him the softest jab to the ribs as he stands, laughing and using Kyouya for support. 

“I’m a little dizzy, Kyouya, but my legs work just fine. Just keep me upright, and it should be no problem.” 

They make it down to the parking lot without incident, and get Haruka buckled into the front passenger seat. Kyouya has to dash back to grab Haruka’s bag and coat, and when he returns Haruka has dozed off against the window. He doesn’t wake until they’ve pulled out of the lot, and are safely on their way. 

“’m sorry for causing trouble,” comes the sleepy murmur from Kyouya’s side. 

“And so you should be,” Kyouya grumbles. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to stick around at school when you knew you were sick. It’s dangerous to keep going like you did. What would have happened if you’d hurt yourself when you collapsed? What if the kouhai girl hadn’t been there? If she couldn’t have come to fetch me? Then where would you be?” 

Kyouya’s knows he’s starting to babble, but he can’t stop the way his blood runs cold at the thought of everything that could have happened this afternoon. “Do you know how scared I was when she came to tell me what had happened?” he demands. He doesn’t even know if Haruka’s lucid enough to be listening, if he’s even awake. He doesn’t really know if he wants him to be. 

“I didn’t know how serious your condition was, or if you’d been hurt, or how long you’d been going for—nobody knew except for this one young girl! You’re lucky she was there, Haruka. I would never have known otherwise, Haruka, I would never have even—!”

Kyouya takes a deep breath. And another. One more. Tries to settle himself back into something like normalcy. He chances a glimpse over at Haruka, but it looks like he’s fallen back asleep. The sight soothes something in him, at least. Haruka is okay, Haruka is safe. Kyouya will get him home, and he’ll rest, and be as good as new in a few days, with luck.  
“You’re so used to taking care of other people,” he says softly, into the unresponsive quiet of the car. “You need to be able to take care of yourself, too.”

They make it to Haruka’s apartment complex without incident. Kyouya grabs his things from the back seat, and then tries to wake Haruka as gently as he can. 

“Haruka, we’re here,” he whispers, as the doctor’s eyes blink slowly open. His glasses are slightly skewed on his face, and Kyouya can’t help the fondness that curls through him at the sight. 

He walks Haruka to his door, insisting on holding everything while Haruka gets it unlocked, and only then does he hand over his bag and coat. He looks tired and pale, but maybe a little less so than he was an hour ago. 

“Thank you, Kyouya,” he says. “I really don’t know what I would have done without you today.” He gives Kyouya a weak smile. Kyouya does his best to return it. 

“Please look after yourself,” Kyouya asks. He falters for a moment. “And…and feel free to--to call me—if you need anything, I mean.” He feels the blush creeping up his neck, but forces himself to keep a steady gaze on Haruka. 

Something flashes across Haruka’s face—some emotion Kyouya can’t place—but it softens the slight strain around his eyes, and his smile slips into something a little fuller. 

“Thank you,” he says again. “I really mean it, Kyou-chan. ...I'll try to take care of myself a little better. Otherwise, how will I ever be able to take care of anyone else?" There's a moment's pause, before Haruka leans close. Something soft brushes Kyouya's cheek. _"Especially the ones I care about most."_

There's no chance for Kyouya to respond before Haruka is gone, disappeared behind doors and walls.


End file.
